


Carrying On

by andimeantittosting (Saylee)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Djinni & Genies, Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Fix-It, Happy Ending, M/M, Poorly disguised shade, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:47:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27640921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saylee/pseuds/andimeantittosting
Summary: Spoilers for 15x20. Dean dies and goes to heaven. But then he wakes up.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 62
Kudos: 309
Collections: SPN Finale "Destiel is CANON" Collection





	Carrying On

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fix-it fic for the Supernatural finale, happy ending and Destiel guaranteed. Credit goes to Mittensmorgul for pointing out the weird, unreal feeling of the episode and it's resemblance to a djinn dream. I merely ran with that, because I'm not willing to give up on the characters we love.

Dean dies and goes to Heaven. 

Then he wakes up. He feels weak, and there's a sharp pain in his inner elbow, a pain that intensifies and then eases as large, careful hands tug and withdraw the thick needle that is jammed in the vein there. A sluggish trickle of blood follows, and is soon staunched, something soft pressed over the wound. Dean blinks and smacks his dry lips.

There's a dark head bent over his arm. Dean watches blearily as Cas lifts his head, meeting his eyes with concern writ large across his face. "Hello, Dean."

Dean knew he shouldn't have gone after a djinn as his first case after Chuck was defeated.

"I'll give you this," he says, voice coming out an embarrassing creak. "At least this dream beats death by nail. Where the hell did you get the idea that living in some weirdo heaven fantasy was my wish?"

"Dean," says the djinn with Cas's face. "This isn't a dream."

"Oh yeah?" says Dean, more belligerently than a man lying on his back on a filthy warehouse floor perhaps has a right to. "Prove it."

Cas's mouth tips up into an embarrassed little smile. "The last time I saw you, I confessed to something which I'm sure you must want to forget."

Dean snorts. "Not exactly giving me reason to think this isn't a dream, Cas." He lifts his good arm, grimacing a little at how weak he feels, and lets his hand flutter until he's cupping Cas's cheek. "But this is real nice. I love you, too, you know."

Cas's mouth is parted and his eyes are wide. Clumsily, Dean lets his hand drift over so he's tracing Cas's lips with his fingers.

"I'll wake myself up in a minute, but first, you should kiss me." With a strength of will, he leans upward, urging dream Cas down. Cas comes easily, still looking a little stunned, but willingly leaning in, his lips ghosting over Dean's.

A clatter of boots sounds nearby, and Sam's voice calls, "Cas? Have you found him?"

"We're over here, Sam." Cas's lips disappear, and Dean sinks back down with a groan. Moose-blocked. At least that proves this is reality.

As his strength returns, he rolls to his side ready to push himself upward, and spies the body of the djinn, the unassuming tv writer he had interviewed earlier that day. Blue tattoos that were previously hidden snake over the skin, while that lying s.o.b. stares sightlessly upward, the twisted fake ending he'd intended for Dean faded and defunct.

As he pushes himself upwards, Cas's hands are there again, helping him to his feet, and there Sam is too, naked relief written across his face.

"Seriously, Dean?" he says. "You almost got taken out on our first hunt after defeating God?"

"Yeah, yeah," Dean says. "Laugh it up, bitch," but he's not bothered - he remembers what old Sam's hair had looked like in the djinn's fantasy - somehow he'd known, even from Heaven - and he presses his lips together to hold in the laugh. "Would you really name your kid after me?"

"Is he still juiced on the djinn poison?" Sam asks Cas.

"I can't test it anymore," says Cas, "but my guess is no."

"Speaking of," says Dean, "this isn't a dream, but you're here. Explain."

A trace of smugness flits over Cas's face. Dean's never going to get tired of looking at it. "I annoyed the Empty into releasing me once before. It miscalculated badly in taking me again."

Because it bears repeating, Dean says, "Damn, I love you." He ignores the shock on Sam's face, and turns to face Cas more fully, taking more of his own weight onto his own two feet, but looping his arms around Cas's neck.

Cas favours him with a blinding smile, one Dean will do everything in his power to see again and again, but then he sobers. "There was a cost," he says. "My grace is gone."

Dean searches his face. "And you're okay with that?"

Cas's eyes are soft and fond. "More than. As long as you don't keep on getting yourself injured."

"I'll do what I can." It's a promise he intends to keep. Dean Winchester isn't about to be taken out by a rusty nail anytime soon.

Sam has been bent over his phone, tactfully giving Dean and Cas privacy. "If we're done here," he says, "we should get back to the bunker. We have company coming. Jody and Donna and the girls, Eileen, Rowena, Bobby, Charlie, Garth and Bess - our family."

"Sounds good to me," says Dean, feeling love take wing in his heart, big enough to encompass all the people he's come to care for along the way. "Let's go home."


End file.
